What is cruising in a dinghy all about? I suspect it means many different things to many different people. In fact, everyone who sets off for a cruise in their dinghy probably has slightly differing expectations from anyone else - even in the same boat.

That many of these expectations can be realised at the same time, and in the same place, is a tribute to one thing - the boat itself. Of course, the designer must take a lot of the credit. We sail a Wayfarer. I wonder if Ian Proctor could have foreseen the almost limitless sense of exploration, curiosity, excitement, satisfaction, companionship and enjoyment that would result from sailing aboard his design, giving pleasure to so many people of all shapes, sizes, ages and backgrounds, for almost 50 years.

Thanks to his design, we had a truly wonderful month aboard Emma cruising in the Baltic last August. Getting there was remarkably easy. Within 24 hours of hooking up the trailer in Ipswich, we had sailed from Harwich to Esjberg aboard the ferry and launched in the harbour at Saeby at the north east of Jutland in Denmark. We were joined by two Danish Wayfarer sailors as the traditional bugler announced the curfew from the harbour wall to packed pontoons. Already we were experiencing new cultures and meeting new friends by virtue of Emma. Furthermore, like any cruise, the excitement and anticipation generated in planning made us eager to get going.

There is sailing in the Baltic to satisfy every cruiser's tastes. Sailing from Denmark to Sweden across the Kattegat is a challenging open sea crossing. Going out, we broke the journey at the Danish island of Laeso. From here to Marstrand, we experienced large rolling seas with winds gusting to force 6, and a busy shipping lane to cross. It was a white-knuckle ride at times, out of the sight of land demanding trust. We both trusted Emma who demonstrated what a wonderful sea boat Ian designed. I trusted Anne, for whom the tiller appears to be a natural extension of her arm, and who reads the waves beautifully. Anne had to trust my navigation. Well, to paraphrase another Wayfarer sailor, Matt Sharman, Sweden's huge, you can't really miss it. We didn't. By contrast, we returned to Saeby a month later from an island near Marstrand, a 46 nautical mile crossing in 10 hours at about force 3. We even had the oars out for a short while.

The west coast of Sweden, north of Goteborg, right up to the southern end of Norway, around the Oslofjord, is a huge archipelago. Thousands of islands provide sailing waters that must have been put on this earth specifically with dinghy cruising in mind. The islands provide shelter from the worst of the weather and the fjords wind their way inland, providing sailing opportunities in most conditions. We enjoyed a week of short day-sails in company of the Wayfarer International Rally, based at a campsite on the Island of Malon. Here we camped, sailed, swam, barbecued, chatted, sang and relaxed in the delightful company of Wayfarer crews and families from Denmark, Norway, Holland, the USA and the principality of Southwold, Suffolk. The whole event was made even more mellow by the continuing Mediterranean summer weather.

Having left the rally, we continued exploring the archipelago reaching as far north as Frederikstad in Norway. The sailing was varied. Some days involved short passages. Others required a longer day's sail. We ventured out to sea to visit offshore islands in search of breeding sea bird colonies. We followed an inland route around the immense island of Orust. Some days were relaxed, almost drifting, counting jellyfish and eider. Some were more demanding. After one extremely strenuous day, hiked out, beating into a force 4/5 wind for 25 miles made good, we collapsed in wet heaps on the pontoons at Stromstad harbour having finally tied up for the night. A Norwegian from the yacht ahead bounced onto the decking beside us and announced, "I see you in the fjord. I take off my hat to you. I know English words to describe what you do, but I must not say them!" He handed us each a can of beer and bounced back into his yacht.

Beside the sailing experience, a sense of exploration is an important part of dinghy cruising, especially going somewhere for the first time. The archipelago is just made for this. I suppose we have never really grown out of "Swallows and Amazons," and anchoring for the night on an uninhabited island is a real treat. We claimed many for England, scaling summits, swimming in the bays and absorbing magnificent sunsets. Either we found a shallow bay in which to anchor and wade ashore. Or we tied up the bows to a steep piece of cliff, laid out a stern anchor then stepped ashore. This process was made even easier by virtue of the fact that there is barely any tide, no more than 60 cm at most. It didn't take long to realise that this also obviated the need for 'crack of dawn' starts to catch a tide gate. Relaxed, stress-free mornings quickly became the norm.

Spending the night at anchor on an island is a real treat for a dinghy cruiser. We slept aboard, but it is equally easy to pitch a tent ashore (although it may be hard to knock the pegs in), and apart from certain nature reserves clearly marked on the charts, camping is allowed almost anywhere in both Sweden and Norway. Some islands even have litter bins and toilets provided. We did not find the wildlife as diverse and abundant as in the Hebrides, but the views we had were made more special through their scarcity. Eider, tree sparrows, peregrine, buzzards and black guillemot were amongst the birds observed. A herd of deer were grazing on one island beach as we arrived. Gazing at the marine wildlife was a constant source of time wasting, as a host of creatures went about their daily lives beneath the boat, and with a snorkel and mask, the amazing iridescent colour of the anemones was revealed.

Shopping for supplies was easy. There was a good food store in almost every village and stopping in the harbours for a couple of hours was free. A charge of around £10 was levied for overnight stays, and most had good showers and facilities. We had three stormbound days ashore. These provided opportunities to explore inland, climbing hills for fantastic coastal panoramas, or taking a short bus ride to unexpected finds like the Vitlyce museum. Here, at a world heritage site amongst the pine forest, we discovered the most amazing collection of Bronze Age rock carvings imaginable. Ships, deer, hunting scenes, chariots and the footprints of those too sacred to draw had been carved into the granite by locals some 2,500 years ago, and as your fingers trace the images you begin to share something with the artist. The call of a buzzard circling overhead could even be their spirits begging to share a piece of the action aboard a cruising Wayfarer. Surely, dinghy cruising must be part of our Viking heritage?

We saw very few dinghies, and none were cruising. A Swede in a local day boat tacked over and exchanged a few words, correctly identifying Emma. Tied up in the Vaderoarna, a small group of islands some 6 miles offshore, several yacht crews came over and inspected us. "We have heard the English sail in small boats but have never seen one before." They quizzed us about equipment, navigation, stowage, sleeping, anchoring and cooking, clearly fascinated by the concept of dinghy cruising. However, I suspect they won't be downsizing just yet.

So what does cruising a dinghy mean to you? Our cruise in the Baltic was our most enjoyable yet. Over 450 miles made good, all sorts of sailing, excitement, testing conditions, testing ourselves, good company, exploring new places, camping on uninhabited islands, discovering new countries and cultures. It all makes for a truly rewarding experience and, naturally, it makes us want to go again. Remarkably, both at sea and in harbour, many Scandinavians recognised the Wayfarer. But then, she is a remarkable boat and Ian Proctor was a remarkable man.

Thank you both Emma and Ian.